


Cheaters

by anneapocalypse



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic, Vault 101
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2019-03-11 22:50:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13534179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anneapocalypse/pseuds/anneapocalypse
Summary: James' daughter isn't about to sit back and leave her G.O.A.T. results to chance. Unfortunately it seems someone else has the same idea.





	Cheaters

The problem with steel is that everything squeaks and creaks and screeches. Footsteps. Doorways. Desk drawers. Cat holds her breath as she eases open the top drawer of Brotch’s desk. Just pencils and some scrap paper. Damn it. She pushes it in slowly, slowly, and then tries the middle drawer. Locked. Pay dirt. Slipping a bobby pin out of her pocket, she works the lock open with a soft _click_ , and a moment later she’s lifting out the answer key for tomorrow’s test. Perfect. Now to—

The classroom door sliding open nearly startles her out of her skin, but the slick-haired punk standing on the other side of it looks just as startled to see her. He lets fly with a “Shit—” before clamping his mouth shut.

They regard each other coldly.

“Butch,” says Cat in a low voice.

“Nosebleed,” says Butch.

There’s a pause.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” says Cat.

Butch snorts. “Tell what? I was just out to get some fresh air, and what do you know, I run into the teacher’s pet.  _Cheating_.” He fakes a look of horror. “Daddy is gonna be so disappointed—”

“Can it, DeLoria.” Cat waves the answer key. “I’ve got what we both came here for. We share this, we both keep our mouths shut, everyone wins. End of story. You in or you out? In means you get the results you want. Out means you’re probably gonna spend the rest of your sad life on the lower levels burning garbage and won’t Mommy be proud. So. You in?”

Butch smirks. “Yeah, all right. I’m in.”

“Good, then get over here and memorize the answers you want.”

“Whaddaya mean,  _memorize?”_

“We can’t take this from Brotch’s desk, dumbass. He’ll know. What are you gonna do, write the answers on your hand?”

“Okay, whatever,” Butch mutters, joining her at the desk.

 

The next day, Cat strolls out of the G.O.A.T. whistling, newly named Vault Jukebox Technician. Behind her she hears, “What do you mean,  _hairdresser?_ I’m a barber, got it?”

On his way out, Butch winks at her.

Cat rolls her eyes.


End file.
